


Sense Memory

by HLG



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-05 23:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1099924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HLG/pseuds/HLG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Emma and Henry recover their memories, but Regina's curse has removed her own and made it as if Storybrooke truly never existed? Post S3e11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It has been a very long time since I wrote anything for public consumption, so thank you for your patience.

Regina sat in her throne room, examining the magical map that showed the boundaries of her shrunken kingdom. The depredations of the so-called “wicked” witch were becoming all-too frequent, and nothing she had done—even with the help of her reluctant allies—had stemmed the tide. Oh, they had caused the witch to lose many of her minions, but no amount of casualties seemed to dissuade her. Regina pinched the bridge of her nose and turned away from the map table, absent-mindedly sending more magical energy to reinforce the wards around the castle. She would have to leave within the next few days to reinforce the perimeter magics before enacting her plan, but the Charmings were out there in the meantime, coordinating the army and efforts to reduce the impact of flying monkey attacks.

Belle would soon arrive with an update on her research on the Wicked Witch and her potential weaknesses, but for now there was nothing for Regina to do but wait. And stew. She’d taken all the precautions she could, set what traps she could; she had long since removed her own heart for safekeeping. Though it was gone, she could still feel echoes of the terrible fury and pain that had precipitated her desire for the blissful effects of the Dark Curse. She had appeared at Snow White’s wedding to Charming to threaten her and all she held dear, had been warned by Rumplestiltskin about their child’s potential to ruin everything, and had been on the cusp of sacrificing her father . . .

The first attack by the Wicked Witch had taken her completely by surprise. The sickly green woman had appeared just long enough to snatch Rumplestiltskin and set Regina’s castle on fire, leaving chaos and confusion in her wake. The witch’s targets had seemed random at first, but soon it became clear that Regina’s entire kingdom was under serious threat. And without Rumplestiltskin, defense against magic was left up to Regina alone. As bitter as her rivalry with the then-pregnant Snow White had been, Regina had had no desire to see her kingdom ruled by any outsider, especially not one with such hideous clothing. She had offered the Charmings a truce for the duration of the struggle, provided that they would assist in defending their homeland. The people weren’t entirely willing to follow Regina, but they would follow Snow and Charming. Idiots.

Now, a year after the witch’s first incursions, the Charmings had an infant son and the tenuous truce still held. Regina found that the very thought of their child filled her with a murderous rage and an obnoxious feeling of emptiness. She occasionally tried to cheer herself up with fantasies of killing all three of them in tortuous ways, but for some reason that once pleasant pastime made her weary. A great many things made her feel weary these days, and she also had trouble sleeping. During the darkest hours of the night, she often woke with the irritating feeling that something was not as it should be. Even an attempted dalliance with that hooded outlaw had failed to provide amusement, but at least he was willing to defend the castle with his band of dirty men.

Tired of the war of attrition that she seemed to be slowly losing, Regina now planned to lure the Wicked Witch into her territory and have it out once and for all as soon as possible. And if she were to die in the struggle, well, it would be much easier than trying to keep on living in a world that brought only pain and disappointment. She was so tired of it all. But if she managed to live through this conflict, perhaps she would enact the Dark Curse after all, and make a better life for herself somewhere else while coincidentally making everyone else miserable. For that, she would have to locate her father . . .

A bright flash and a noise behind her had her spinning around on one heel, magic surging to her fingertips. A gangly boy and a woman with long, unkempt blonde hair were rushing toward her from across the room.

“Mom!” shouted the boy, and Regina couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder to see who he was talking to. When she looked back, she found herself being assaulted by the strangers as they both wrapped their arms around her tightly. A strange panic overcame her, and she froze. It was all she could do to restrain her magic and not kill them on the spot. Even more strangely, her eyes seemed to be tearing up.

  
**********************************************************************************************************************

Emma felt her excitement and joy at their magical arrival fade quickly as a very stiff Regina quickly moved to extract herself from their embrace. She was dressed dramatically in black and silver, looking more Evil Queen than Emma had ever seen her before. A tiny portion of her brain noted that the, uh, bosom area of the gown was very revealing. But there was absolutely no spark of recognition in Regina’s eyes. In fact, those eyes seemed devoid of any sparkle at all.

“Uh, kid,” she said, tugging at Henry’s arm and pulling him back to a safer distance. He was looking at Regina in puzzlement; it hadn’t hit him yet. “I don’t think she remembers.”

“How could she not remember _me_?” he whispered, clinging to Emma’s hand. They had gotten their memories back in bits and pieces after Hook had showed up at the door the first time, which had eventually led them to what was left of Storybrooke and its still-active portal to the Enchanted Forest. And now, back in Regina’s presence, everything that had transpired in the past several years was crystal clear to Emma—but not, apparently, to the dark woman before them.

At the sound of Henry’s voice, something seemed to come alive in Regina, and she scowled at both of them.

“Who _are_ you? More minions sent by _her_? Sent to poison me with your touch?” Both Emma and Henry were accustomed to seeing furious outbursts from Regina and didn’t draw back; their calmness seemed only to enrage her more. Dark magic crackled from her body, elaborate skirts rustling as she stalked around the room.

Uh-oh. An angry Regina was a very dangerous Regina, especially if she didn’t remember them. Emma wracked her brain for something to defuse the situation.

“We’re—from another place,” she said, gesturing at her and Henry’s obviously out-of-town clothes. “This is your son, Henry.” She made sure to emphasize the name, figuring Regina would recognize it as her father’s. She thought about saying "our son" but figured keeping it simple might be best, considering the glare being directed her way.

“Ridiculous. I have no son!”

“Uh, yeah, you do.”

“I most certainly do not!”

Emma realized that this game was going nowhere, but thankfully Regina’s attention had been distracted by Henry, who stood watching his other mother with tears streaming down his cheeks and snot flowing freely from his nose. Something flickered in Regina’s snakelike eyes for just a moment, and then it was gone. She reached into the bodice of her dress, and Emma prepared to go for her gun if necessary—but the Evil Queen simply removed a lacy square of silver cloth and threw it at Henry’s feet.

“Wipe your nose,” she said in a matter-of-fact, motherly tone of voice—just as she probably had hundreds of times before. Realizing what she’d just done, Regina seemed to draw into herself in confusion, taking several steps backward. “Who _are_ you?” she whispered. Emma couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Regina look so alone and frightened. Shit.


	2. Chapter 2

Their frozen tableau was interrupted by the crash of glass breaking and the sound of inhuman squawks as a group of those horrible monkey creatures entered through several of the windows and began to fling projectiles at them. Before having a conscious thought, Regina found herself moving to place herself between the boy and their attackers. She hoped that she could muster enough magic to fend them off alone, as there was little hope of reinforcements arriving in time.

“How did they get past my wards?” Regina hissed, taking cover behind one of her many ornate pieces of furniture and pulling the boy along. The blonde woman followed, a strange looking weapon appearing in her hand. She aimed and shot twice, killing two of the dozen or so monkeys that were spreading around the large room in an attempt to surround them. From the way they were attacking all three of them, Regina supposed the question of whether the strangers were minions of the witch was answered. Not that she was inclined to trust them either way.

“Fuck if I know,” said the woman, firing again and cursing as she missed. Regina felt her eyes roll involuntarily. “Regina!”—it was intolerable how the woman addressed her as if they were equals, rather than Queen and . . . someone clearly of lower station. Regina tossed a fireball at the nearest monkeys and was rewarded by pained hoots and the smell of singed fur. A rock grazed her temple, setting off a painful throb. Situated between her and the other crouching woman, the boy tried to make himself as small as possible, but otherwise didn’t seem to be overcome by fear. She could feel his eyes tracking her steadily, as they had been ever since his arrival. When he caught her glancing at him, she was rewarded with a beatific smile. 

“Regina!” said the woman, firing her weapon again. A monkey squawked in pain—much too close for comfort.

“I know you’ll protect me, Mom,” the boy said to her. Regina felt a peculiar sense of déjà vu sweeping through her, and tried to re-focus on creating flaming death.

“Re-geeen-a!” said the other woman again, sounding peeved.

“ _What_ ” said Regina, who felt like she was going to have whiplash when all was said and done.

“Take my hand!”

“Certainly not!”

“God _dammit_ Regina!” Distracted as she was by forming and launching another fireball, Regina didn’t realize until too late that one of the monkeys was now directly above them and poised to drop. Light flashed off its sharp claws.

“Mom! Mama!” the boy screamed, pointing. Regina’s hand met the blonde stranger’s extended palm as if she knew exactly where it would be waiting. Their fingers wound together and she immediately felt a blast of pure magical energy magnifying her power. Her eyes widened at the flood, but she didn’t have time to think before the monkey was upon them. She threw their combined energy into a wall of fire that moved out from them in a sphere, charring everything in its path. So much for the décor in her throne room. 

When the flames finally sputtered out and the monkeys had ceased their death cries, the room was eerily quiet. It was also smoke-filled and smelled incredibly foul. Regina moved to stand straight and realized that her hand was still clutched tightly in the other woman’s, forming a tight knot over the head of the dark-haired boy—Henry.

**********************************************************************************************************************

“What is your name?” asked Queen Regina. She looked even more tired now than she had when they’d gotten there, but there was also some of that missing spark in her eyes as she extracted her hand from Emma’s and put some distance between them. Her brow was furrowed, but at least she no longer seemed possibly murderous toward them. A trail of blood ran from her right temple down the side of her face; she looked angry and beautiful. And puzzled.

“Emma.” She felt like now was probably not the time to get into the details about being a Charming scion and the Savior and all that, especially since this Regina probably hated Snow’s guts, like in that homicidal way, and retaining custody of Henry wasn’t something keeping her in line anymore. Plus to this Regina a lot of that stuff had never really happened, which was just . . . shitty and was going to make everything so much harder. Emma caught herself slumping in dismay.

“That doesn’t seem right,” Regina muttered. Emma’s heart skipped, hoping that this might actually mean they were making progress.

“Swan. Emma Swan,” she added. 

“We’re going to help you remember!” said Henry, rather optimistically.

“Remember. . .” Regina looked thoughtful.

“It’s a long story,” Emma said.

“Indeed,” said Regina. “The boy—Henry—called you ‘Mama’?” The way Regina said "Henry" sounded like she was sounding it out for herself, tasting some of its flavor on her tongue.

“Er. . .  yeah, about that—” Emma’s fumbled explanation was interrupted as the dark woman abruptly stiffened and fell to the floor. 

“Regina!” yelled both Emma and Henry, and rushed to her side. Luckily she hadn’t hit her head on anything as she went down.

“I think she just passed out,” she said to Henry, who was taking this opportunity to hold his mother’s hand and touch her thick black hair. “Don’t worry, she’s still breathing. Where the hell is everyone?” Privately, Emma thought that the tightness of Regina’s corset-thingy probably hadn’t done her too many favors in the “heat of battle” sense, although it was certainly helping her in other areas.

After checking the windows and making sure they were safe for the moment, Emma left Henry with Regina and barged through various doors until she discovered one that led to Regina’s private apartments. Hoisting the other woman into a fireman’s carry—not without some theatrical grunting—Emma hauled her into the sumptuous sitting room and deposited her ungracefully on the couch. Henry hurried in after to make his sleeping mother more comfortable.

“I’m not sure if it would be a good thing or a bad thing to find some servants,” Emma said, thinking aloud for Henry’s benefit. “They might think we did this to her.” He nodded but was obviously still mostly concerned with Regina’s well-being. Emma took a moment to examine the pale brunette herself. Regina looked like she’d seriously aged in the last year. Things were obviously out of hand here in the Enchanted Forest, which tallied with the little that Hook had passed on before pointing them toward Storybrooke and disappearing. Emma wondered where her parents were. And if they remembered her—and whether it would be better for all of them if they didn’t.

“We have to get her to believe us,” Henry said.

“Easier said than done, kid.” Emma sighed. “We have to get her to trust us first.”

“I have an idea, but it might take a while. Do you think you can convince her not to—to kill us?” Emma hated the quaver in Henry’s voice and the fact that it meant he was once again wary of Regina. What she would give to have their weird, fucked-up little family back the way it used to be.

“I’ll try.”


	3. Chapter 3

Regina woke on her third-favorite fainting couch with a splitting headache. She opened her eyes very slowly and took in her surroundings as she made sure the wards were still in place, then froze as memory rushed back. The boy—that impertinent woman! Monkeys. Magic! Perhaps even magic that she could use in her battle against the witch . . .

“Hi Mom.” Regina sat up abruptly at the sound of another voice, then subsided with a wince as her head wound reminded her of its existence. The boy was lying on the floor next to the couch, arms behind his head as he contemplated the coffered ceiling. A loose pile of paper was stacked on his other side, along with a few of her quill pens and some ink.

“Stop calling me that.”

“I’m sorry if it bothers you. That’s just how I think of you.” He sniffed audibly.

“Where is . . . the other one?”

“Emma? I think she went to find something to eat.”

“She’ll find very little. The witch cut off supply lines some time ago and most of my cooking staff was killed in one of the raids. They’ve been sending me horrible slop ever since.”

“Mo—er—what should I call you?”

“I would prefer you and your mother disappeared and called me nothing at all.” Regina contemplated rising and returning to the miserable toil of her daily life. The silence lengthened between them until it was unbearable. The boy cracked first.

“If the food is so bad, maybe you should make yourself something.”

“Don’t be absurd, I don’t cook.” Why was she even bothering to have a conversation with this irritating boy? She should be getting up and figuring out how the cursed monkeys had pierced her wards. She should be finding out why Belle hadn’t arrived yet. She should be planning a counter-attack against the witch and preparing for her trip to the front lines. And interrogating this Emma Swan person about her magic so she could begin putting all that raw power to good use. Instead, she was lying incapacitated and debating semantics with a child.

“Actually, kid, that’s a great idea.” Regina was startled to find that the other woman had materialized at the head of the couch. She was now looming over Regina and eyeing her critically, a dangling blond curl in danger of grazing Regina’s face. Regina attempted, once more, to sit up. She ignored the blonde woman’s helping hand on her back because it suited her to do so, but it was harder to ignore the surge of magic from that same lithe hand as it clasped hers without permission. By the time she had shaken it loose with a glare, her headache had evaporated.

“How did you—?”

“...I’ve been practicing?” The Swan person was not as cowed Regina she would have liked by her death glares. “Oh, all right, Regina. You got me. I have no idea, but who wants to look a gift healing in the mouth. Magic is pretty easy here,” she said with appalling nonchalance. Then she gestured at Henry, who was fussing about with his papers. “Will the kid be safe in here?”

“My private rooms are the most highly protected in the castle. Speaking of which, how did you manage to get in here?”

“I’ve, er, been practicing?” This was said with a crooked smile. Even though it was apparently useless, Regina tried another glare, with an eyeroll for good measure. The leather-clad woman just laughed and tossed some of that unruly hair over her shoulder. Her casual attitude was disturbingly familiar.

“Theoretically, if we left the rooms, Henry would be as safe as it is possible to be in these particular times.” She tried not to notice him perk up at the use of his name; it was as if she had offered a dog a treat. The dark-haired boy beamed at her.

“Great, let’s go.”

“What? Where?” Regina felt as if the situation, already surreal, was spiraling completely out of her control.

“To. The. Kitchen.” This was said very patiently, as if the blonde woman were speaking to an idiot. Regina’s traitor stomach chose this moment to rumble quietly to itself. “I couldn’t find anyone to help me, and I almost got lost in this fu-- place. Oh, and by the way? You’re welcome.” Regina’s lips thinned in displeasure. The woman’s attitude toward her was nothing less than infuriating.

“For what, may I ask?”

“For healing you and saving your ass back there.” Regina chose not to dignify that with a response.

When Regina arrived there with her blonde companion in tow, the royal kitchens were largely empty, aside from a few wide-eyed maids. It had been many years since she’d ventured this far down within the castle, but she was hungry. She could hardly remember the last time she’d eaten, much less slept of her own volition. And once she found her absent steward and ladies-in-waiting, they would pay the price for their neglect. But in the meantime, here they were in the kitchens, where the large preparation tables, the copper-bottomed pans, the hanging herbs, and the enormous cold hearth were only vaguely familiar to her. 

“Now what, Ms. Swan?” she snapped. The blonde woman stared back at her with a bemused expression. Regina turned away from her and beckoned to one of the maids. “You! I don’t suppose you could make us something palatable?” The woman blanched and stuttered a denial, backing away involuntarily.

“Regina…” murmured the person responsible for dragging her here. Regina glared absently in her direction, feeling a pull that she couldn’t quite name.

“I suspected as much,” continued Regina, putting her hands on her hips and surveying the kitchen once more. “Show me where the edible items are hiding. If they exist.” 

Regina dimly noticed Emma Swan edging cautiously into the background as she hunted for an apron and reviewed the paltry fare that was placed, with many curtsies and “your majesties,” before her. She took a deep breath and didn’t allow herself to think about how cooking was beneath her and she knew nothing about its practice; instead, she closed her eyes and inhaled the scents of the kitchen, brushed her hands over the greens on the carrots before her, and let go.


	4. Chapter 4

Emma didn’t want to do anything that might jinx the magic she was seeing unfold in the kitchen: Regina, her--er, their Regina, cooking like she had back in Storybrooke. The modern appliances were absent, of course, but the unerring competence and absolute focus as Regina chopped and . . . sautéed, or whatever she was doing . . . were definitely the same. Even though Regina’s memories of the past thirty-odd years were gone, her body clearly remembered things that were inaccessible to her mind. And sometimes she glared a certain way or said things like “Ms. Swan” that sounded so much like the old, snarky Regina that it hurt. 

Emma folded her arms and leaned against the cool stone wall, unable to take her eyes off the dark woman as she worked. Something was starting to smell kind of delicious. The staff were across the room, watching from a safe distance and scurrying here and there to get things at Regina’s command. Some things that were different about this Regina, mostly involving the way she interacted with Henry, but Emma was hopeful that the woman she knew--the one who was willing to give up her happy ending to a once mortal enemy--was still somewhere inside. Emma had spent the last year living with Regina’s memories, and she wanted the other woman to have her share of redemption. This Regina clearly wasn’t very happy; there were little lines of stress around her eyes and mouth that made her intriguing lip scar more prominent than usual. And her outfit was definitely more in the “Evil Queen” line than Emma was entirely comfortable with; there was no way she’d gotten into that thing without magic.

In some ways, getting Regina to remember them—or at least accept them—was an unenviable and seemingly impossible task. But for Emma it also represented a new beginning. She had often felt the potential for friendship, or some deeper kinship, in the common ground that she and Regina shared. But the betrayals and insecurities and miscommunications of the last few years had often strained their relationship to the breaking point. In this new/old Enchanted Forest, there had never been any furious arguments between them--no poisonings, no jealous warring over Henry’s affection. This was her chance to try again to reach Regina, this time with the knowledge that the woman had sacrificed all her hard-won happiness for Henry’s sake—and maybe for Emma’s sake as well.

Some of Emma’s clearest memories were now from that day on the road in Storybrooke, holding Regina’s hand. She wanted to see if it was possible to make this Regina look at her that same way. But there were so, so many questions, like where were her parents? Was Gold alive in this reality? And, well, where was anyone? What the hell was going on in the Enchanted Forest? How much had been reset by the undoing of the curse? Obviously not the part where Emma had gotten shoved into a wardrobe, or neither she nor Henry would be here. Without much information to go on, Emma was operating under the theory that everything she had come to understand about the past thirty years had happened, it just wasn’t something the fairy tale folks could recall. Or at least not the one smirking triumphantly at her culinary creation. The sooner they could get Regina to trust them, the sooner they could start the business of saving the day. 

Soon she would have to break this strangely pleasant spell and start asking Regina the hard questions.


	5. Chapter 5

Cooking, Regina reflected, was a lot like potion-making, but with much more pleasant results. Perhaps she would try it again someday--something with apples would be quite pleasant to make. After working in the kitchen until some unknown part of her signalled her task was completed, Regina came back to herself with a sense of a job well done. She instructed the servants to remove the meal to her chambers, and prepared to return there herself. Ever since she’d been forced by her head wound to stop the flurry of activities that kept her constantly awake, she found she was both exhausted and hungry. This weakness was something that needed to be overcome, of course, to defeat the witch. But in the meantime, a meal might help restore her flagging reserves. She left the kitchen and stalked through the halls of her domain with a leather-clad shadow moving silently beside her.

The part of Regina that hadn’t been focused on her labor in the kitchen had spent the last hour worrying over the conundrum presented by Henry and the Swan woman. Regina’s first instinct was to dismiss them outright and seek any means to rid herself of them, but . . . if she closed her eyes and then opened them slowly, blocking out everything but the face of the woman striding so close and looking so gravely intent, Regina could feel . . .  something at the edges of her consciousness. A familiarity that she would be hard-pressed to deny. And there was also the way that she’d let this woman and the boy run roughshod over her plans and lead her about without retribution. She had far too much on her mind to suffer fools, but for some reason, here she was suffering them with hardly a peep. It felt . . . normal. Uncomfortably familiar.

As accustomed as she was to hiding things from herself (her heart foremost among them) there were some memories she had tried repeatedly to access and found nothing but a blank wall where memory should be. Foremost among them was the question of where her father was now. Something made her mind shy away whenever she tried to answer that question; she would inevitably find herself caught up in some other matter if she addressed it. Her mind turned back to the question of what to do with the interlopers. The woman’s magical power, even as gauchely untrained as it seemed to be, was something that Regina simply couldn’t turn away when the kingdom was at risk. If that meant the boy remained as baggage, so be it. She batted away the thought that they might not be willing to give themselves blithely to her cause--clearly they wanted _something_ from her, or they wouldn’t have come. In that way, they were just like everyone else.

“Hey, um, your _Highness_?” Regina’s thoughts were rudely interrupted by her companion, who seemed incapable of speaking to her in a tone of proper formality.

“What,” she replied, increasing her pace and forcing the blonde woman to jog to catch up.

“Can I borrow one of these swords you’ve got hanging on the wall around here?” In response to Regina’s scandalized expression, she continued nonchalantly “...almost out of ammo, you know?”

Ah yes, that curious weapon. Regina paused in the corridor, feeling another wave of exhaustion crashing over her. What did it matter? Very soon, this would be the witch’s castle to decorate or destroy. Regina would probably be dead. She felt a hand on her elbow and an undeniable surge of energy from the other woman’s touch. A pair of light eyes stared unwaveringly into her own. “I don’t know, _can_ you?” Regina tried to sneer, clinging to the thread of their conversation. “I don’t care.”

“Regina, you are so not okay,” said the Swan woman matter-of-factly. “We need to talk.”

“I don’t think so,” said Regina, wrenching her arm away and hurrying once more in the direction of her chambers and the sanctuary they represented. She was so exposed out here, and it angered her every time she felt herself cowering within the walls of her own castle.

“Put your goddamn heart back in, Regina--I can tell it’s missing!” the blonde woman shouted from behind her. Regina gasped in shock--how could the woman possibly know? She considered making a run for it, but she’d never been one to back down from a conflict.

“You know _nothing_ about me,” she hissed, putting all the venom of empty and agonizing years behind it.

“I do. You just don’t remember it, that’s all.” The Swan woman blushed and pushed her hair behind one ear as she hurried to catch up again. “I mean, I don’t know everything about you, or really anything, but--”

Finally, they arrived at the entrance to Regina’s suite. A part of Regina, relishing the opportunity to fight with an opponent she could see--without the consequences affecting the fate of her kingdom--was reluctant to enter the drawing room. A very small, quiet part didn’t want Henry to see her fighting with Ms. Swan. Then the exhaustion was back again, pinning her in place outside the door. Regina could only watch as the other woman encroached again and took her hand. The by-now familiar surge of energy was there, bringing light where she preferred only darkness to reign. Regina felt inexplicably _better_ when they touched. It was too irritating to bear. And yet she didn’t pull herself away.

“You gave me a happy ending, Regina, even if you don’t remember it. You deserve one too.” The woman’s fingers were warm and strong.

“I . . . can’t,” she whispered. And it was true. There would never be happiness for her, unless the rest of the world was made to forget everything she’d been and done. She had been robbed of her opportunity for happiness when the witch’s attack had prevented her from casting her curse.

“You can and you will,” said the woman, releasing her and opening the door. “Now let’s eat.” Emma Swan swaggered inside, stooping to ruffle Henry’s hair and look over his shoulder. Regina hovered at the doorway, looking into the room where the light-haired woman and the dark-haired boy were waiting expectantly. Then she turned away and walked down the shadowed corridor.


	6. Chapter 6

“Shit, shit, _shit_ ,” Emma muttered as Regina disappeared from sight. Next to her, Henry looked sadly toward the door. They’d had a plan, and it had been going kind of well, until she’d lost her patience and tried to push Regina too hard. It was just so damned _scary_ to see her wilt and fold in on herself like that--Emma wasn’t accustomed to the other woman showing any weakness.

“It’s okay, Ma,” Henry said, smiling up at her with that trusting face. “She’ll come back.” Emma could remember, thanks to Regina, hundreds of times that their son had looked at his other mother that way. Sometimes it was really weird, knowing someone else’s thoughts were in her brain. Still, they were one way she knew how genuine and deep Regina’s love for Henry truly was, and Emma had grown to appreciate her new knowledge of Henry’s early childhood.

“Yeah, but will she try to kill me when she does?” Mortal peril or no, Emma would be damned if she was going to give up. For the first time since they’d appeared in the Enchanted Forest after finding their way from Storybrooke, it occurred to Emma to wonder where Hook was. After all, he was a fairytale person who seemed to remember her and Henry just fine--maybe because his ship could travel between worlds? This was the kind of speculation that always made her head hurt; Emma much preferred a clear course of action and a weapon in hand. And anyway, Hook wasn’t here, so having him to vouch for them wouldn’t even be an option. It was probably best not to have him mooning around and complicating things.

There was a polite rap on the door, which ruled out Regina as the person on the other side--she would have strutted right in looking haughty and wearing something crazy and hot. Emma scrambled over to open the door a crack, and was relieved to see Belle standing on the other side, a stack of books balanced precariously in her arms. Emma swung the door wide and smiled at the other woman.

“Belle! Let me help you with those!”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” the auburn-haired woman asked, clutching the books close. “I was looking for the Queen.”

“You . . . used to know me, Belle. I know you, anyway.” One of these times, Emma was going to find a graceful way to tell people they had major memory loss. “The Queen, um, stepped out for a moment. This is Henry.”

“Hello, Henry,” said Belle. She seemed on the edge of flight, like a timid forest creature.

“Hey Belle,” he said.

“Where is Gold, er, Rumplestiltskin?” asked Emma, forgetting in her excitement over a familiar face that he’d vanished with Pan a year ago. Neal and the rest of them had assumed that he was dead, but how likely was that? That guy was indestructible, as far as she could tell.

The color drained from Belle’s face. Obviously this was a touchy subject. “I cannot be certain, but we think he’s a captive of the evil witch.”

“We?”

“The Queen . . . and I,” Belle said, finally coming all the way in to the room and placing the books on a fragile-looking end table. Like the rest of Regina’s fancy furniture, it was sturdier than it appeared. “I’ve been working in the royal library to discover if there’s some way to defeat the witch or block her power.”

“You’re working together?”

Belle nodded. “The Queen is coordinating our defense. Without her we would already have been swallowed up by that--that menace.” She looked reflective. “The Queen is not the person she used to be,” she said. “I don’t know how, but recently something has changed in her. I don’t know if she thinks of me as her _equal_ , but she hasn’t locked me up again. I think she may even trust me.” Given the bits and pieces Emma knew about Regina and Belle’s relationship before and after the curse, this was big news.

“She always was saving our asses,” Emma muttered to herself. At Belle’s bewildered expression, Emma waved a hand. “It’s complicated. Let’s see if I can explain it. Uh, look, I know you guys believe in magic.” She glanced at Henry, who gave her an encouraging smile. “A long time ago, Regina--the Queen--cast a spell that made everyone but her forget everything and move to--somewhere far away from here. Eventually I broke that spell, but it took a really long time, because first I had to grow up. My parents are known to you as Snow White and Prince Charming.” At this, Belle’s eyebrows rose almost to her hairline. “I know this sounds crazy.”

Belle looked closely at Emma’s face, as if searching for something. “Continue,” she said.

“Uh. Sure. Anyway, while I was working on growing up, I had my son Henry here.” Henry obligingly put on his most innocuous smile. “But I was fu--messed up, so I gave him up for adoption. You guys have that here?”

“You . . . found another family to care for him?”

“Something like that. The person who raised him is known to you as the Queen.” This prompted a shocked gasp from Belle. “Henry is the person that she loves most in the world. In any world.” The tragedy of Regina’s memory loss hit Emma again, hard, and she felt tears welling up in her eyes. “Loving Henry is what made her a better person, even if she doesn’t remember him right now. He and I are here to see if we can help her realize what she’s missing.” Or, failing that, to begin the reform process all over again. Sometime in her trip through the castle with Regina, Emma had realized that she and Henry weren’t going to leave Regina again--at least not voluntarily. She reached out to him now and gripped his hand tightly.

“Well,” said Belle. She seemed to be kind of overwhelmed. Emma knew how she felt. She just hoped the auburn-haired woman wouldn’t ask her anything about Gold, at least not yet. There was only so much convoluted backstory she could convey at one time. “I don’t know what to believe.”

“I guess you don’t have to believe right now, Belle. Just know that we’re here to help.”

“I do know that the Queen wouldn’t allow you in her chambers unless she felt you were trustworthy.” Emma filed this interesting tidbit away for later consideration.

“It’s funny,” said Henry. Emma had almost forgotten he was there, he’d been so quiet. “Mom doesn’t remember us, but it’s like she can’t help treating us the way she used to. I think she might even hug me if she didn’t stop to think about things so much.”  
  
“We’ll keep working on her, kid,” said Emma. Assuming Regina ever wanted to speak to her again. She’d feel a lot better if that sharp, regal gaze was fixed on her again--even if there was no recognition in Regina’s beautiful eyes. She just hoped they weren't running out of time.


	7. Chapter 7

Regina stalked into her throne room and surveyed the damage wrought by those repellant flying monkeys. Despite the mess they had yet to clean up, her idiot servants had obediently laid out the food she’d prepared on a sideboard. She could have used magic to repair some items, but she was already stretched very thin by the protective spells she had placed on the castle and throughout the kingdom. It galled her to admit it, but likely the only thing currently keeping her upright was the magic she’d received from that woman’s touch.

Sampling some of her cooking, she hummed to herself in approval before using a tiny portion of her magic reserves to send half of the food to her sitting room for the boy and woman who occupied it. There was too much for her to eat, anyway, and the boy looked like he had grown since . . . Regina shook her head to clear the sudden fog. She was still so tired.

Emma Swan had pestered her about her absent heart, and now Regina felt an inexplicable desire to retrieve it and return it to her body. It was completely ridiculous, really. Keeping her heart safe allowed her to rule effectively and make the difficult decisions she had to make without remorse; it gave her an edge that she’d found herself missing ever since . . . since . . . Regina’s mind slid away and returned to the subject of hearts. Putting hers back in would make her too vulnerable, the way she’d been every time she had ever trusted another person to put her needs first. No, it was best to leave it right where it was. Safe. Untouchable. She continued to eat, and brood.

Emma Swan. Her odd familiarity. Those ridiculously tight pants. It was unfortunate that the woman seemed so bent on caring about Regina, making her want things that were impossible. For so long it had seemed to Regina that happiness was unreachable, and so she’d settled on survival. Given the current situation, simple survival now seemed unlikely, so she’d done her best to embrace some kind of grand martyrdom. If the people in her kingdom had never appreciated her before--and they hadn’t, the wretches--surely they would after she sacrificed herself for them. Such had been her half-hearted logic. There hadn’t been much to live for, ever since . . . something. Something important. She grasped for it, but it eluded her yet again. But Emma Swan and the powerful magic they created together made her wonder if there wasn’t a possibility for actual improvement in her life. She could now see the potential for something sweeping and violent and lovely: victory. Total annihilation for that witch pretender. That might not give Regina any asinine “happy ending,” but it would be entirely satisfying.

****************************

The appearance of Belle, while heartening, burst the bubble they’d been living in for the past day and reminded Emma that there were other people to consider aside from Regina and Henry. Somewhere out there was Neal, who she thought really did want to be close to Henry. There were her parents. There was Hook, wherever he had gone off to. She’d been putting all of them out of her mind as best she could since they’d been here, because reaching Regina had seemed so important. But here was Belle, a living reminder of all those other complications, welcome as they might be.

The librarian had explained to them about the Wicked Witch and her unfortunately mostly successful campaign to subdue the Enchanted Forest. How Regina had been working with Snow White and Prince Charming--Henry and Emma had exchanged a loaded glance--to maintain what ground they could while she worked with Belle to implement a magical counter-attack. How Regina had seemed like a different woman over the past year, her bite having lost some of its viciousness. Unfortunately, Regina also appeared to have lost some of her drive as well. A shadow fell over Belle’s features as she described Regina’s seeming lack of care for her own life--her reckless solo attacks on the witch’s minions, and her near-constant use of magic to bolster the kingdom’s defenses.

Emma was relieved to hear that her parents were still alive, as of the last report. Clearly things were getting dire here, and she and Henry had arrived in the nick of time. She had wanted to give Regina as much time as possible to get accustomed to them being around before laying everything on her, but it was clearly time to confront the other woman with the truth. If she didn’t accept it, they would move to plan B, or E, or whatever fucking letter they were on at this point. When it came down to it, Emma supposed they could save the kingdom first and answer questions later, but she couldn’t escape the feeling that they would be more effective if they could get their Regina back--heart and all.

Emma still didn’t quite know how she was going to say things to Regina like “you killed your father to get what you thought would be your happy ending and then spent years manipulating everyone for fun and profit and I broke your spell, but really it’s better this way.” How she had ruined Regina’s tidy plans, but it was only after Regina had already realized that it wasn’t a perfect new world she’d created. How Regina had loved Henry more than anything else in the world and had given up everything to secure happiness for him and Emma. How Emma felt a crazy, giddy, bubbling sensation whenever their skin touched, and she wanted to touch Regina some more. Like all the time. Suddenly exhausted beyond all belief, Emma wished that there was some kind of switch she could flip and have Regina remember everything. Hell, it was fairytale-land, anything should be possible, right?

“How’s the project coming, kid?” she asked after Belle left them to continue her research.

“It needs more drawings. Like the real book.”

“What, you didn’t like the one I did?”

“Mom’s gonna say that you messed up on her hair and made her look funny.”

“Take it or leave it, kid.”

“I’ll just work on some more of my own.”

For a while there was silence, broken only by the scratchings of Henry’s quill pen. Emma wandered over to the window again and looked out at the endless forest surrounding the castle. It looked exactly like it had five minutes before. The urge to do something-- _anything_ \--was oppressive. But she didn’t even know what direction to go if they left the castle. The witch could be anywhere. Her parents could be anywhere. This sitting and waiting was the _worst_.

“Anyway I’m taller than that now.”  
  
“All right, Henry, I get it. I can see my artistic skills aren’t wanted here.” Emma could practically hear his eyes rolling, and she grinned at her reflection in the warped glass. The door between this room and the throne room was locked tight by Regina’s magic, but she was pretty much ready to bust it down and get this show on the road. She’d give him a few more minutes, but then it would be time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the unintentionally long break! I haven't watched the new episodes yet--told myself I had to get this story done first.

Regina gasped, waking from the light trance and rising wearily from her throne. She had just been frustrated once more, unable access the pieces of her memory that seemed like they ought to be there. She struggled briefly with the urge to give up the losing battle against the witch and find her own path away from this cursed place. What did she  really  owe the people here, anyway? Who was left that she truly cared about? But there was something . . . an echo of Daniel’s voice, telling her to love again. When . . . ? Her hidden heart gave a traitorous throb from its hiding place in the seat she’d just vacated. She could put it back in, just for a minute. Maybe that would give her the missing piece she needed to solve this riddle--how could she expect to defend her kingdom when she couldn’t even rule her own mind? She needed to figure it out before she could destroy that witch.   
  


Before she fully realized what she had done it was in her hand, pulsing eagerly. It radiated all the light and color and energy that she felt lacking in herself recently, especially since the arrival of the strangers. Though it glowed, it was cool to the touch--but it burned like fire when she thrust it abruptly back in her chest. Time stood still. Wind seemed to rush into her ears and she became exquisitely sensitive for one stretched moment. There was no sound or breath or thought or grief, only painful, brilliant light. Would this be the time that body and heart refused to reunite?   
  


But no, there it was again. That painful, vital throb--inside of her instead of tucked away behind her safeguards. Regina felt an unwanted tear making its way down her face, and she scrubbed it away impatiently. She would endure this feeling only as long as it allowed her to get what she wanted--what she  needed to prevail. And then she would hide her heart away once more. She was preparing to resume her trance state when the door to her throne room burst open. The blonde woman and the boy stood there, looking uncertain. Regina sighed. Her defenses must be significantly weakened if she couldn’t even keep that woman from intruding.    
  


“I didn’t invite you here,” Regina said, closing her eyes.    
  


“Regina,” came the impertinent woman’s voice from much too close.    
  


“What. Do. You. Want.”    
  


“I want you to listen to us and accept the truth.”   
  


“Your “truth”?  Please .”   
  


“You aren’t going to like what I have to say, but it--it seems like time might be running out. Henry--” she gestured the boy over, and he looked up at Regina from under his shaggy mop of hair. His eyes still looked sad, but also held a glint of hope in them that was more frightening than Regina could begin to understand. He looked at her like he  knew her. “Henry has something for you.”   
  


The pages were like air in her hands, filled with the exaggerated and looping penmanship of a child, as well as . . . illustrations?    
  


“That’s our story, Mom,” said Henry with a sweet and trusting smile. Regina found herself at a loss for words.   
  


“I--I can’t,” she whispered. The weight of her heart was unbearable in her chest. It seemed to have turned to lead. She carefully set the pages aside without looking beyond the first one.  Once Upon a Time , it read. She smoothed her finger along the words before turning back to catch a glance flashing between woman and child. Emma gazed at her with a new resolve, and then she and Henry advanced on Regina.    
  


“Before you left us, Regina,” said Emma, standing too near.    
  


“Mom, we need you,” said Henry, taking her hand.   
  


“You gave me your memories.” Emma took Regina’s other shaking hand in her own and held it tight. She felt trapped, but also . . . immobilized by relief. As if it was no longer possible to run away from something terrible and ominous that had been looming over her. Now, at last, perhaps she could be brave enough to turn and face her fate.

 

“How magnanimous of me,” she murmured automatically. Emma rolled her eyes in response, which triggered such a strong feeling of familiarity that Regina nearly fell to her knees. With her hands trapped by both of them, the flow of magical energy in her body was dizzyingly strong.    
  


“Um, so I’m going to try to give them back--” said the blonde woman, a frown line appearing between her eyebrows as she concentrated. Regina knew this was absurd; she should pull away. She was far too busy for this kind of idiocy . . . someone was going to get hurt, probably her . . .   
  


*a tiny baby, crying--can’t imagine living without him--brushing the boy’s hair away from his eyes yet again, it was obviously time for another haircut-- you’re not a villain \--a striped scarf-- I promise I’m finally going to be the mother you always wanted me to be \--wish he would remember to put his clothes away in a timely manner--oh thank god he is safe-- Henry is my son \-- he’s our son *  
  
The flood of memory, thought, and feeling ended abruptly as the door crashed open yet again, revealing a grinning man with a hook for a hand.


	9. Chapter 9

Hook’s abrupt arrival was painful for Emma in several ways. God! Hook and his shitty sense of timing. He was a complication that she could in no way envision improving the delicate situation that she and Henry had found themselves in since . . . yesterday? Time was so weird here. But most importantly, Hook’s intrusion had cut off the hesitant, clumsy flow of magic that had been streaming between her and Regina. She probably shouldn’t have tried sticking memories into Regina in the first place, but it was the best plan she could come up with when Regina wouldn’t even open Henry’s “book.” Emma didn’t really know what she was doing, but she was pretty sure that interrupting it in the middle was a terrible idea.

  
“Look who I brought!” he said proudly, ushering in a fair-haired man who was trailed by a woman holding a sleeping baby. Her parents. And her little brother or sister? Hell. Emma bit back a groan and tried to look neutral, since she didn’t think happy was an achievable goal at the moment. Regina’s hand was still warm in hers, sending magic sparking between them, but the other woman seemed frozen in place.    
  


A glance at Mary Margaret’s face was enough to tell Emma that her parents had no more idea who she was than Regina had when she and Henry arrived. “You didn’t tell them?” she asked Hook accusingly. He looked injured.  


 

“It wasn’t so much that I didn’t  tell them. It was more that they didn’t believe me,” he shrugged and grinned again. Emma knew that insouciant charm was Hook’s defense mechanism, but sometimes it was hard not to hold that against him.     
  


“What are you  doing here?” Regina said, abruptly pulling her hands away from Emma and Henry and advancing on Emma’s parents. Emma hurried to keep pace, just in case things got out of control. You never could be sure with Regina, although it seemed like she was currently on the same side as Emma’s parents. It was a relief to focus on Regina again instead of all the feelings that seeing the Charmings aroused.    
  


“We were already on our way, Regina,” said Mary Margaret calmly. “I guess our courier didn’t make it through. I’m surprised you didn’t see us with your magic?”   
  


“I’ve been occupied with other matters,” Regina said.   
  


“We can’t hold the border any longer,” said David, looking exhausted.   
  


“It’s only a matter of days, maybe hours. We came back here to strategize.” Mary Margaret sighed and hitched the kid up to rest more comfortably in her arms while she and David outlined the territory conquered witch’s forces. Privately, Emma thought that both of her parents looked like they hadn’t slept in months--though maybe that was just from being new parents? A dark and vicious corner of her was glad to see that they hadn’t precisely fared well in her absence. That part muttered that it would be just fine with her if her family only consisted of Henry--and maybe Regina? That didn’t sound as insane as it would have a few years ago.   
  


One thing she knew for sure was that she wasn’t going to go back to being the half-assed one of Henry’s moms, even when Regina did get all her memories back. The memories that Emma had gotten from Regina a year ago had revealed a depth of care that she very much wanted to match. She’d done her best when they were in New York, but the kid deserved two parents who were committed to making a family with him. Unfortunately, Emma had no way to gauge whether their little memory-imparting experiment had worked; Regina’s face was carefully blank as she absorbed the bad news. Now was probably a bad time for them to have another heart-to-heart.   
  


“The remaining troops are staging an organized retreat under Sir Maurice,” concluded David.   
  


“Not, perhaps, your best idea,” murmured Regina, who was now staring blankly at the wall. Emma, having spent several years trying to figure out the meaning of Regina’s expressions, interpreted this to mean that Regina was trying desperately to figure out how she was going to save them all again.    
  


Emma decided to take the bull by the horns and give the other woman some room to think. She stuck out her hand to David. “Hi, my name’s Emma. I’m your daughter?” She didn’t mean to make it a question, but it came out that way anyway. Mary Margaret looked sharply at her, giving her a once-over, and then her gaze wandered to Emma’s right. Henry had come up between her and Regina and was gazing warily at his grandparents. “This is Henry, your grandson.”   
  


David, genial man that he was, took her hand and shook it heartily. “Hook told us about you, but I’m afraid it’s still a little…”   
  


“...strange,” Mary Margaret concluded. “I--I can’t remember.” She didn’t make any move toward Emma and Henry, but continued to watch them with a mix of curiosity and wariness. Hook at least had the good sense to stay out of this engagement. He was wandering around the blasted throne room, kicking at shards of glass.   
  


“Yeah,” said Emma, rocking on her heels with her hands in her back pockets.   
  


“How could we have forgotten so many years of our lives?  Look at you,” said her mother, now seeming genuinely distressed.   
  


“Magic,” said Emma, at a loss. “It’s the worst.”    
  


“It’s okay,” said Henry, “you guys will remember. And so will Mom.” He looked over at Regina, who was now pacing back and forth between her throne and the wall of ruined windows. Her full skirt flared out behind her as she stalked. Emma’s brain shorted out for a moment as her eyes lingered on the dark woman’s figure. Yep, she was still a stunner. Regina’s clothes were kind of over the top here in the Enchanted Forest, but what they lacked in subtlety they made up for in bosom exposure.    
  


“If only that green menace had kept her nasty little fingers in her own kingdom’s pies,” snarled Regina, rejoining them and breaking the awkward silence.    
  


“Waitaminute, did you say  green ?” Emma asked.   
  


“Try paying attention, dear.”   
  


“Well, shit, if it’s the same green witch I’ve heard about, then maybe I know how to beat her.” Emma thought furiously for a moment. “Do you have a . . . I dunno, pig’s bladder or something lying around?”  
  
“I beg your pardon?” Regina was incredulous. But after Emma explained her plan, she said “I suppose it can’t . . . hurt,” and stalked off to find a servant. 


	10. Chapter 10

The appearance of that ragamuffin pirate had disrupted Emma’s spell, leaving Regina with disjointed splinters of memory that threatened to overwhelm her mind. It was nearly impossible to tell what order they ought to be in, or whose memories they were, given that some of them seemed to be dedicated to a lingering appreciation of Regina’s breasts. The result of the memory surge was an intense, stabbing pain that seemed to pierce Regina’s left eye and penetrate to the back of her head, not improved at all by the sight of the Charmings and their spawn entering the room as if they were expected. She took a moment to check the perimeter wards on the castle; if Snow White was here, their last stand was no doubt rapidly approaching on disgustingly hairy monkey-wings.

Regina listened to their report with only a small part of her attention--the rest of it was focused on her new memories of Henry. Her son. How could she ever have forgotten him? Her son, her tiny baby, her growing boy. How could a lifetime have passed in some other kingdom, when to her it seemed as if no more than a year had passed? The pain of their year-long parting was redoubled by the knowledge that he hadn’t even known she was gone. Or that she’d even existed at all. Instead, she’d practically _given_ him to that woman--what had she been thinking? When she tried to remember, her head throbbed.

Another memory rose, as if trying to force her to be honest with herself. She and Emma Swan, one on each side of their son, hugging him fiercely. Their son. Henry, the person she’d struggled for years to raise and protect in her...magical town? The memories were frustratingly vague on this point, as well as how, precisely, she was supposed to feel about the blonde woman. _It could be a trick_ … Regina thought, but honestly she failed to see the tactical advantage in tricking an exhausted and magically drained evil queen into accepting custody of a child. It wasn’t as if there was going to be any kingdom for her to hand down to an heir. And Emma Swan, though at times she had been rude and overly familiar, had done nothing to indicate she was allied with Regina’s enemies.

Regina found herself muttering and pacing, trying to fight her way clear of the swarm of memories--and the questions they bred--long enough to do what she knew must be done. She glanced up to see Henry tracking her progress with that open, trusting expression that she’d once feared lost forever, and her recently replaced heart throbbed. _Focus_ , she demanded of herself. Henry’s safety. Henry was worth fighting for. He was worth staying alive for, and getting everyone out of this godforsaken mess and this godforsaken kingdom that she no longer had the urge to rule. Surely she could figure out some way to get them back...home. If only she could remember where home was. Or if she had any certainty that they could defeat the witch. Regina fought down her rage and panic and lingering confusion and prepared to take charge.

“If only that green menace had kept her nasty little fingers in her own kingdom’s pies,” she said. That would make everything so much simpler.

********************************

Regina hadn’t gotten more than three steps beyond the throne room doors when Emma Swan caught up, halting her with a hand on her arm.

“I think we need to finish--you know,” she said, a V of concern appearing between her eyebrows.

“There isn’t any time,” said Regina, shaking the woman’s hand loose and continuing down the corridor. Apparently they were destined to spend their time together having these conversations as they traversed her castle.

“Then we should talk,” said Emma, doggedly pursuing her.

“I suppose I can’t stop you,” said Regina, who was privately enjoying the fact that the taller woman once more had to jog occasionally to keep pace.

“How much did you--what do you remember?” Regina considered telling her the complete truth, including the parts about her own physical attributes, but found that she was too tired to be cruel.

“Bits and pieces.”

“But you remember now. I mean, that Henry’s your--our son.”

“Yes, I accept that he’s...our son.” Regina took a corner at top speed, heading once more for the kitchens--with one planned detour. She could have sent her messages magically, but she wasn’t sure what the witch could or could not do with her powers, and an excuse to get away from the Charmings for a moment was too good to pass up. Poor Henry had been left with his grandparents and that reprobate, but Regina had taken the precaution of placing a spell on him that would alert her to any danger and allow her to shield him from afar.

Regina had realized as soon as she’d left the throne room, desperate to do something, that the thing she wanted most in the world was to re-enter and fling her arms around her son. What if something _happened_ in these moments she was away, wasting her time chattering with his other mother? Emma recoiled visibly from her expression, and Regina tried to school her wayward feelings into some kind of order. This was why a heart was more trouble than it was worth; having it inside her inevitably made her maudlin and irrational.

“How did you get here?” asked Regina, trying to get the strategic part of her mind working again.

“Uhhh,” said the blonde woman, glancing anxiously over as Regina approached a spiral staircase and started to climb. “Shouldn’t we be going down?”

“We need to fetch Belle,” said Regina. “She may be able to assist our efforts. How did you get here?”

“Oh you mean _here_ here,” said Emma. Regina rolled her eyes. Clearly Henry didn’t get his intelligence from his birth mother. “I’m not sure.” The blonde woman was puffing slightly as they reached the top of the stairs and came out onto a landing decorated by a faded tapestry.

“How helpful.”

“I mean, Hook came to New York and that...jarred something loose, I guess. So we went to Storybrooke--”

“Storybrooke?”

“Yeah, that’s your town. The one you made with your...curse.” Emma looked uncomfortable. “Like you said, we don’t really have time for this talk--”

“No, no, I am all ears, Ms. Swan.” Regina had come to a full stop and folded her arms, doing her best to stare down the other woman who was, annoyingly, taller than her.

“I’m not sure now is really a good time--” Regina felt her lips tightening into a thin line. Tingles started in her fingers, ran to her neck, and swirled in her chest. She felt a nearly overwhelming urge to run. Perhaps she _didn’t_ want to hear this. Her heart thrummed nervously.

“Please,” she said, gritting her teeth. “Emma, please. I need to know.” The other woman looked deeply conflicted, but eventually nodded. She took Regina’s hand and led her to an alcove near the tapestry, pulling her down onto a wooden seat. Regina glared and tried to pull her hand away, even though she was enjoying the warm flow of magic from the other woman and the feeling of not being so...alone. Emma allowed her to let go, but kept her hand open on her thigh--an invitation.

“I have all your memories of Henry’s childhood because you gave them to me. Do you remember that?” Regina nodded slowly, although she didn’t _really_ remember that. “How much do you remember about, um, wanting to destroy all of Snow White’s happiness?”

“I--I planned to cast a curse and get my revenge. But it didn’t work.” Emma’s expression became pained. Regina felt her body begin to tremble.

“Regina, I want you to know that I forgive you. I think--I know you’re a great mom to Henry. I still don’t know if you’re a good person, the way my parents are, but I trust you. And you’re _our_ person. Henry’s and--and mine.”

This assertion was bewildering to Regina, so she took refuge in the haughtiness that had often served her well. “Why on earth would I need forgiveness from someone like you?”

“Well,” Emma said, taking Regina’s shaking hand in hers once more. This time she didn’t have the strength to pull away. “You may have noticed that Henry is named after your father. You may _not_ have noticed earlier that I introduced myself to Snow White and Prince Charming as--as their daughter.” This all sounded horribly, hauntingly familiar. Regina felt her blood freeze.

“No--I don’t think I want to know--” she said, trying to pull away.

“Listen to me,” Emma said, her voice now all steel and her gaze fire. Regina felt burned by those eyes, exposed to their power. “You need to hear all of it. In order to cast the curse, you had to sacrifice the thing you loved most. You--you sacrificed your father.” Regina felt her heart, her cursed heart, trying to claw its way out of her throat. This was a truth she’d suspected all along, but would have given anything never to confront. She felt a tear trickle down her face as she gasped for breath. “You separated me from my parents as an infant and forced people from this kingdom to live in a town that you created in another world. It wasn’t until many years later that I found my way in to break the spell. You wanted happiness, I think--” Regina felt sobs erupting from her as if they were coming from another person, far away. She was dimly aware that both of Emma’s arms were around her now, holding her tight.

“You wanted happiness,” Emma continued, “and you found it in Henry. You have been a villain, Regina, but you have also been a hero. I don’t care what anyone else says, I think you’ve redeemed yourself. No regrets, right?” And with those words, Regina felt Emma gently send her another group of memories with a surge of magic. It _hurt_ as if some part of her was being shattered. Suddenly Regina remembered everything, including the reason she’d been unable to remember until Emma intervened.

_You're the Evil Queen_ \-- _You were willing to die to save us, that makes you a hero_ \-- _I don't want to be you_ \-- _You said you wanted to change. To be better. This is how. You want me to have faith in you? Have faith in me_ \-- _If you have to use magic to keep your son, you don't really have him_ \-- _If you hold on to someone too hard, that doesn't make them love you_ \--Henry and Emma, driving away as the last curse took her-- _Villains don't get happy endings_ \-- _You're not a villain. You're my mom_.

  
_You're not a villain. You're my mom_ , Regina thought wonderingly, before everything went black.


End file.
